Toradora 19-20: Sacrifice


Some time ago I said that what makes this show is friendship, not romance per se; and friends sacrifice for each other. That could be the watchword for these two pivotal episodes, but is there a sense in which it goes too far?

(This article was inspired by Seleria’s calling everyone in the show “a bloody martyr.”)

The funny thing is that Taiga is taking her emotional suppression much better than Minorin seems to be. Perhaps her hard life has made her much more accustomed to hiding her pain from plain view. Minori, on the other hand, is always now seen on the verge of breaking down, or visibly wincing at the presence of Ryuuji. Her facade has almost completely cracked and it’s really only a matter of time before it shatters.

It’s not like it’s absolutely clear to us, the viewers, as to what everyone is really feeling. The abrupt, bitterly ironic episode 19 showed us that thoroughly, with the pivotal moment being Taiga’s own admission of her love for Ryuuji–something, it turns out, the book does with even more stark poignancy than the anime. (See the second half of that chapter.) So we know where she stands, and every single scene in episode 20 where she seems genuinely helpful, genuinely trying to stay out of the way of Ryuji and Minori, is filled with unspoken tension. It is the tension of the consciously self-denying, shared by pretty much all the female characters at this point, and dramatically speaking–it works. This was essentially the same engine that pushed Ozu’s movies along and we are going to get some kind of necessary catharsis soon. Or so I hope.


Of course all this sacrifice is probably a bit exaggerated–this is anime, after all–but Minori’s guilt seems believable rather than trumped up, and so is Taiga’s determination to care and perhaps “give back” to Ryuuji by setting him up with his Seemingly One True Love, even at great cost to herself. He has done a lot for her, after all. There were times when I felt similar kinds of impulses too, though sometimes in reality it can get mixed with resentment, and that is what seems to be missing in these depictions of heroic emotional suppression. Not that we don’t see that it’s hard, but that it’s done so willingly and wholeheartedly, especially on Taiga’s part. Never has she seemed more mature, and sympathetic, as when she tells Ryuuji that he can do it because she believes in him. I have no doubt that she means it completely and she feels incredible pain at that moment. There is something really attractive about that in general; it’s a sign of a good heart, and genuine care for the other.

The question is: can this last? Should it, even?


Because we know that so often, this sort of thing ends disastrously. As noble as it seems, it’s based on a form of emotional dishonesty; the truth will out, and it will not be comforting or pretty. This is what otherwise overdramatic shows like KimiNozo and White Album get right. What could be happening is really the last scraps of effort on the part of Minori, Taiga, Ami, and Ryuuji to maintain the “we’re all just good friends” status-quo, when it’s really about to fall apart. Taiga would probably be happiest, really, if she continued to push Ryuuji and Minori together–but not enough to actually make them fall for each other; Ami would be happiest if she continued making witty asides and slyly, indirectly hinting at her feelings and going no further; Minori would prefer to keep the genki fiction alive and feel innocent of stealing Taiga’s “man” from her. The show has been in that mode for most of its existence and there were so many beautiful moments, it’s as if–as Minori and Ryuuji muse Honey and Clover-style in episode 20–it ought to last forever, that in the words of the title it ought to be “always like this.” Some of the most beautiful moments in that friendship are coming now, near its end. That’s what makes it seem rather tragic in a way.


Speaking of Honey and Clover, I thought about the heartbreaking scene in season 2 when the gang talks about driving to the beach together one day. For a moment, Hagu reverts to her loli-ness (“Drivu!”), Yamada speaks with such hope about how much fun it will be, and Takemoto gets to grow further by actually driving somewhere (as opposed to just riding his bike). They sound like they will definitely go. But then, we are told in a devastating voice-over:

In the end, we never went to the ocean. For some reason, even though we didn’t have a single picture, that image of everyone together burned into the back of our eyelids and became the one image that will stay with us forever.

This presaged the ultimate drifting apart of the group of friends in H&C. It happens all too often in real life. How odd that everyone in Toradora is going on a class trip to a mountain, and not a beach too; and time will tell whether the image of friendship and trust we saw at the end of season 1 is going to be more like a memory rather than the reality.

Author: gendomike

Michael lives in the Los Angeles area, and has been into anime since he saw Neon Genesis Evangelion in 1999. Some of his favorite shows include Full Metal Alchemist, Honey and Clover, and Welcome to the NHK!. Since 2003 he has gone to at least one anime convention every year. A public radio junkie, which naturally led to podcasting, he now holds a seminary degree and is looking to become Dr. Rev. Otaku Bible Man any day now. Michael can be reached at You can also find his Twitter account at @gendomike.

9 thoughts on “Toradora 19-20: Sacrifice

  1. This recent episode (20) paid off for the more melodramatic, overdone episode 19. It was much more entertaining, and the characters acted a bit more realistically than usual. Minorin still had her weird side, but not as annoyingly weird as usual. All in all, together, these episode worked with each other pretty well.
    Aside that, the art was wonderful as usual. Or perhaps it’s just the lighting.
    Sumire Kano looks TOO similar to Ami Kawashima, it’s getting on my nerves.

  2. I don’t agree with people who say Taiga and Ryuuji should get together.  I don’t think that’s what she needs.

    More than anything, she needs a family.  Ryuuji and her mom figured this out and brought her into theirs.  Taiga is grateful for this, and it’s caused the softness for Ryuuji, but it’s not a romantic love.   Being young, I don’t think she’s quite able to sort this out.  But Ami has, since she’s hinted at it to Ryuuji a couple times.

    That’s my theory, anyway.  Maybe I just want Ryuuji and Minorin to hook up …

  3. Critical Design: here’s the funny thing–I’m one of those for whom on first viewing, episode 16, one of the most highly praised episodes, felt a bit overdramatic. I felt 19 was fine for the most part, but yes, I agree that 19 and 20 really go together. It was the same with 17-18; 17 felt woefully incomplete without 18. I’m beginning to think reviewing dual episodes like this is the best for this show.

    I completely agree that Sumire and Ami look far too alike. When I first saw her pic there I thought it was Ami.

    Peter S: you make a strong point there. The missing or broken family is a huge subtext in this show and I’ve said earlier that the friendship and potential romances are in the end failed substitutes for the family.

    The complexity of the emotions in this show is one of the things that makes it so great.

  4. Although it’s an interesting theme, broken families are seen in many, many animes. I suppose ToraDora does explore it more often – however what I find is that “responsible” parents limit the freedom of the character, and aren’t a writer’s priority.

    Sometimes, parents are just left out altogether, perhaps only referred to in flashbacks or casual speech. It’s odd, but it happens very often.
    Mind you, Death Note had an interesting twist on this, being a broken family which seemed to be very strong, to other characters at least.

  5. Critical Design: it’s true, though in many cases, the absence or near-absence of parents is part of the escapist aspects of the show, not the painful undercurrent. That’s true for most TV shows and movies that are aimed at adolescents, which is the majority audience for anime (teens to early 20s). The first paragraph of this article about the acclaimed American show Friday Night Lights gets it square on the head.

    I think you have an excellent point about responsible parents limiting the course of action that teenage characters would have. Imagine if the majority of teen anime characters were depicted as most kids that age have to act–go to cram school, go home, do homework, eat dinner, and maybe only go out occasionally on weekends. Booooooring.

    Querty: It ain’t School Days till the knives come out!

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